


Looking Good

by cypress_tree



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dresses, Grinding, Lapdance, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 03:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2492972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cypress_tree/pseuds/cypress_tree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann tries on a few dresses.  Newt is very appreciative.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking Good

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for the "semi-nsfw meme" that was floating around tumblr. [patster223](http://patster223.tumblr.com/) requested "giving a lap dance" and "grinding," with dresses and thigh-highs, if I so wished. I did wish, but unfortunately, you can't try on thigh-highs in a changing room.

Hermann has no idea how it happened. One moment he’s browsing through a sale display of cable-knit sweaters, the next, he’s following Newt into the changing room with an armful of expensive dresses. Now, it’s just before noon on a Tuesday, and he’s wearing a floor-length evening gown, staring into the mirror, and admiring how good he looks.

“Blue is totally your color,” Newt says. He smooths down a few wrinkles and looks at Hermann’s reflection. “You should buy it.”

“I have nowhere to wear it.”

“Dude, you don’t need an occasion. Just wear it around the apartment.”

Hermann sighs. He looks at the dress's price tag, but can’t justify spending $200 on a garment that won’t ever end up leaving the house.

“Unzip the back,” he says.

Newt sighs.

Hermann never wears dresses in public; he gets stared at enough as it is. The first time Newt strolled into the lab in a plaid skirt and black tights, Hermann was jealous. He had a dress of his own—light blue cotton with short cap sleeves—but he never wore it outside his quarters. Even then, only at night, when he was unlikely to get visitors.

“Here, this is the last dress,” Newt says, holding out a hanger.

Newt was the one to encourage him—to build up Hermann’s confidence with compliments and praise and to tear down his insecurities until finally, Hermann wore his blue dress for Newt. The pride and admiration in Newt’s eyes was enough to convince Hermann to do it again and again—albeit only in private.

“Okay, this is totally the one.”

Hermann looks in the mirror. He’s wearing a mint green party dress with a fluttering skirt that falls just above his knees. His legs look slender, but not sickly. The attached petticoat gives the dress shape and the wide neckline shows off his collarbone, as well as two love bites that haven’t quite healed.

“How do you feel?” Newt asks. “Because I think you look fucking hot. Like, hotter than usual.”

Hermann smiles. He likes the dress. He likes the way he feels in it, and he likes the way that Newt is looking at him.

“I’ll consider it,” he says, slyly.

“You’ll _consider_ it?” Newt spins him around so they’re facing each other, then slides his arms around Hermann’s waist and tugs him close. “This is easily the best one you’ve tried on.”

“Yes, well I didn’t come here for _dresses_ , you know.”

“Psh, I don’t care. You like wearing them, and I like seeing you wear them, so—”

“Oh, if only our likes and dislikes dictated our needs.”

“You’re such a little—” Newt pauses, his attention caught by a song that starts playing on the store’s radio. “Dude!” he says, eyes alight. “This was my 2014 jam!”

It takes Hermann a couple of moments to switch his brain from flirting to retro pop music. He recognizes the song, but doesn’t know it quite as well as Newt, who hums the intro and sings quietly to the opening verse.

“ _Yeah, it’s pretty clear that I ain’t no size two. But I can shake it, shake it, like I’m supposed to do._ ” He punctuates each “shake it” with a hip shimmy, and pulls Hermann a little closer. “ _‘Cause I’ve got that boom boom that all the boys chase, all the right junk in all the right places._ ”

Hermann snorts and kisses Newt’s cheek. Newt leans up to give Hermann a proper kiss in return.

“So are you gonna get it?” he asks.

“I think I will, yes.”

“Awesome. _‘Cause every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top._ ”

Hermann smiles. Newt sways them both back and forth to the music. He nestles his face against Hermann's neck and kisses him, taking full advantage of the fact that, for once, Hermann isn't buttoned up to his throat.

"You look so good," Newt murmurs. "It _does_ things to me."

“Oh? What sorts of things?”

“Mmm…sex things.”

Hermann chuckles. Newt guides him back a few steps until there’s a small bench behind Hermann’s knees. He flops down into it, the skirt of his dress poofing up around him.

“You like this song?” Newt asks.

“I don’t think I’ve heard it in ten years.” Hermann catches his breath when Newt bends down and puts his hands on Hermann’s knees, pulling his legs a little farther apart. “However,” Hermann adds. “I am quickly developing a taste for it.”

Newt’s hands inch up until they’re completely hidden under Hermann’s petticoat. His thumbs brush the insides of Hermann’s thighs.

“You ever get a lap dance?” he asks.

“Excuse me?”

“Just curious.” Newt has a mischievous grin on his face. He turns around and falls into a half-crouch, backing up between Hermann’s legs until he can grind his ass into the layers of tulle that conceal Hermann’s crotch.

“Newton, I hardly think this is the best place for...”

“ _‘Because you know I’m all about that bass, ‘bout that bass, no treble._ ”

When Newt grinds in just the right spot, Hermann whimpers.

“What was that you were saying?” Newt asks.

Hermann puts a hand on Newt's hip and guides him back just a couple of inches. Newt laughs. He’s swiveling back and forth, brushing against Hermann’s growing erection with each pass. He hasn’t tried on any clothes today, so he’s still wearing the too-tight jeans that cling to him like a second skin.

“Closer, please,” Hermann murmurs.

Newt spins around. He kneels over Hermann’s lap, one leg on either side as he makes little figure-eights with his hips. The skirt is in the way, now. Hermann pulls at it, frustrated, until the fabric is sandwiched between their chests, and Newt can rub up against him with each shimmy.

“You’re very good at this—this _twerking_ ,” Hermann says.

Newt bursts out laughing. “Twerking? Where did you hear that, Trivial Pursuit: Millennial Edition?”

Hermann narrows his eyes.

“This isn’t twerking, dude. This is just grinding.”

Whatever it’s called, Hermann likes it. Newt’s pants are stretched obscenely tight, his belly hanging over the edge. He can’t possibly be comfortable, but he doesn’t voice a single complaint. He just hums quietly and swivels back and forth. Hermann pulls him in for a kiss. When the song comes to an end, Newt stops dancing.

“Please continue,” Hermann whispers. His erection is tenting his briefs.

A slow smile spreads across Newt’s face. He climbs out of Hermann’s lap and kneels down on the ground between his legs. He pushes Hermann’s dress back with one arm, then rubs through Hermann’s underwear.

“You’re really hard,” he murmurs. He kisses the inside of Hermann’s thigh. “You want me to blow you?”

Hermann whimpers too loudly, then clamps a hand over his mouth and glances up at the door to the stall. He nods. Newt’s fingers tease around the edge of his underwear before reaching inside and pulling him out.

Voices can be heard in the distance, but the changing area is empty. Hermann’s eyes fall closed. Newt’s mouth is wet and hot, and Hermann is so on edge already that he knows he can’t possibly last long.

“Newton,” he whispers. He bites his lip to keep from making any more noise, then slides a hand into Newt’s hair. Newt’s brow is furrowed in concentration.

Footsteps start walking down the linoleum outside their stall. Hermann’s heart pounds in his chest, but Newt doesn’t stop what he’s doing. He pulls Hermann’s skirt over his head and sucks on the tip of Hermann’s cock. Hermann’s toes curl. He grips the edge of the bench with one hand. Just as the footsteps pass the door to their stall, Newt takes him in completely. Hermann comes with a gasp. Newt swallows around him. Hermann can’t see Newt’s head, but he can see his right arm, working furiously between his own legs.

The footsteps disappear, and Hermann gives a slow exhale. Newt has pulled off, but hasn’t taken his head out from beneath Hermann’s skirt. Hermann pats him over the fabric.

“Are you coming out of there?” he whispers.

Newt places sloppy kisses to each of Hermann’s thighs. He gives a gentle bite to Hermann’s skin, then presses his face against one leg and moans softly. Hermann doesn’t need to see his face to know that he’s coming.

Hermann listens to Newt’s quiet breathing. He feels peaceful and overwhelmingly fond. He reaches beneath his skirt for Newt’s hand.

“That was—”

“Oh, fuck.”

Hermann frowns; that didn’t sound good. Newt sits up straight with a guilty expression. His cheeks are red, and his lips slick and puffy. He glances up at Hermann but seems almost reluctant to make eye contact. Hermann is immediately suspicious.

“What is it?”

“I uh—I may have—we’re gonna have to get that blue dress.”

“What, why?” Newt sits up on his knees and pushes his soft cock back into his pants. Hermann puts two and two together. “Oh, Newton, you didn’t.”

Newt reaches beneath the bench and pulls out the evening gown, now stained with stripes of white.

“Well you can still wear it,” he says. “I’ll get it dry cleaned for you.”

“Newton, that’s a $200 dress!”

“Yeah, it must have fallen. I didn’t see it back there when I uh—well.”

Hermann makes some sort of noise that sounds halfway between a scoff and a laugh. He’s trying desperately to hold back a smile.

“How are we going to pay for that?” he asks.

“What do you mean? We can afford it.”

“I _mean_ how are we going to look the cashier in the eye and—”

“We’ll just wipe it off and roll it up in a ball and maybe—”

Hermann breaks down laughing. It’s terribly undignified. His skirt is still rumpled around his waist, and his briefs are halfway down his thighs. Newt watches him for a moment, then surges forward and kisses him. Hermann’s never been more joyful.

“If we get kicked out of this store, it’s entirely your fault,” he mumbles.

Newt kisses the corner of his mouth. “I’m willing to take the blame,” he says. “I told you you look good.”

**Author's Note:**

> credit where credit is due: the lyrics are from [meghan trainor's "all about that bass"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7PCkvCPvDXk)


End file.
